


Behind Closed Doors

by lexus_grey



Category: Legend of the Seeker
Genre: D/s, F/F, Mistress/slave, Slavery, Spanking, Whipping, but how can it not be when writing Mord-Sith, sub!Cara, this fic is a little more extreme than some of my others, top!Kahlan
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-31
Updated: 2017-03-31
Packaged: 2018-10-13 03:55:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,132
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10505865
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lexus_grey/pseuds/lexus_grey
Summary: Kahlan is Cara's slave and is happy with her life but for one thing...X-posted from my lj





	

The Rada'Han around her neck weighed on Kahlan, but not as much as something else. As she brought a plate of roast boar to the working Mord-Sith at the head of the command table, she slammed it down and crossed her arms under her breasts. "I've had enough!" she hissed.

All eyebrows in the room lifted, trained on their leader.

When no words were spoken, Kahlan continued. "You've had me as your slave for more than a month now, and not once have you ordered me to your bed."

Cara stood slowly, the wooden legs of her chair scraping on the stone floor as she pushed it back. "You dare presume to question me?" she asked, her voice low and genuinely unamused. Her eyes flicked to the other Mord-Sith around the table. "Leave us."

They stood as one, filed out of the room without a glance backward, the last in line closing the heavy stone door behind her. Tension remained even in their absence. Cara waited for an answer to her question.

"Why haven't you ordered me to your bed?" Kahlan demanded.

"Do you really think that a girl like you... could even begin to bring me pleasure?" Cara asked.

Kahlan was surprised at that reasoning, and was unable to think of a suitable response right away. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes and she turned her head away. "At least permit me to take pleasure with the other slave girls, then." It had been so long since she had felt another's touch, and the Rada'Han at least gave her the option. She could indulge without fear of confessing her bed partner.

"Absolutely not," Cara said with an unkind sneer. "My personal pet will not be allowed to behave like a common whore."

"I'm not asking to behave like a whore!" Kahlan shouted, angry now.

"You watch your tone," Cara warned, leaning forward, then reeled back in shock as the Confessor's palm impacted her face. She stood, her head turned away, tongue running over the inside of her cheek to dull the pain as she attempted to collect herself.

Kahlan watched the way the Mord-Sith's head turned, nostrils flared, hands clenched into fists at her sides, yet not reaching for her Agiels. Almost as if she were... composing herself.

The Confessor's eyes widened slightly, an absurd realization dawning. "You don't think I could bring you pleasure because you don't want to be the Mistress, you want to be the slave," she breathed.

Cara's head snapped around. "Hold your tongue, or I'll remove it," she said darkly, clenching and unclenching her fists, trying to anchor herself in the sudden sea of uncertainty she'd been dropped into.

"I will not," Kahlan continued. "You don't trust anyone enough to tell them, let alone a slave girl that you think would confess your secret to any who would listen." She boldly stepped forward, grabbing a handful of the Mord-Sith's rarely loose hair. "You overlook the fact that your slave has been lavishly pampered and wants for nothing... except the touch of her Mistress."

Cara's breath surged, the pain in her scalp igniting a fire long-buried. She hesitated too long to regain control of the situation, because the Confessor's mouth was on hers, teeth roughly capturing her lower lip and biting until she felt the warmth of blood.

The door swung open and Kahlan dropped to her knees, clutching her face as if she'd just been struck. "Mistress, forgive me!"

The Mord-Sith who had interrupted quickly muttered an apology and backed out of the room, pulling the door closed behind her.

Cara was too stunned to move, and Kahlan rose to her feet, striding to the door to lock it, then returning to her Mistress, curling a hand in her hair again. "Well?"

Cara's mind was too full of everything to even begin to deduce what the Confessor wanted. She subtly shook her head, silently asking a question.

"Thank me, for my brilliant performance."

Blue eyes narrowed. "I think you've forgotten yourse--"

Kahlan slapped her again, harder, holding her head in place.

A shudder surged through Cara's entire body, laboring her breath and wetting her thighs. She couldn't say it. She couldn't. It was wrong, these desires she had, and it was wrong that her slave was trying to make her act on them. Was making her act on them. She should have already pierced the girl's heart with an Agiel. Her hand slowly reached for one, but the Confessor's icy voice froze her stiff.

"If you touch that Agiel, _Cara_ ," she sneered the name as if it were beneath her, "I don't care how much it hurts me to touch it, I will wrest it from your grasp and shove it so far down your throat that you will wish you were dead."

Her fingers flexed, holding in mid-air, then she let her arm fall back to her side. Not out of fear. Out of pure, _searing_ desire.

Kahlan carefully lifted each one in turn by the elegant gold chain attached to its base, and flung them across the room.

Cara felt naked without her Agiels, even though she was covered in leather from head to foot.

"Now, unless you want to be put over my knee and spanked, thank me for my brilliant performance. I could easily have told Mistress Berdine what you let me do... without swift and merciless punishment."

Her backside clenched at the threat. It had been so long since anyone had dared speak to her that way... in fact, not since her training when she was a child. "You couldn't possibly get me across your knee," she said disdainfully, unable to make herself submit, even in the face of her desperate, awakened desire.

Kahlan already had Cara by the hair. All she had to do was raise her knee to the Mord-Sith's stomach and push her head until she bent at the waist.

Her chest heaved. "Pathetic," she snarled. "Going for the easy kill."

Amused, Kahlan released her, shoved her backward hard enough, and caught her off-guard enough to knock her off her feet. The sight of the usually impeccably-put-together woman sprawled on the floor, her hair mussed and tangled, was exquisite. Empowering. It flared a heat in Kahlan's belly like she'd never felt before, even back in the Confessors' Palace when she took an eager lover that yearned to submit to her will. It was nothing like this. Entitlement burned hot, and she strode to the Mord-Sith, jerking her to her feet by the hair.

Only a severe, indomitable will kept Cara from crying out at the sudden pain. She should be across the room, picking up her Agiels, using them without mercy. Putting the slave girl down. "Thank you," she croaked instead, her throat embarrassingly dry, her cheeks flushed. How could she allow this to happen? Yet... she wouldn't think of stopping it for anything. _Anything_.

"What?" Kahlan asked, one eyebrow lifting slowly, an amused smirk spreading across her lips. "So soon? But not complete. What are you thanking me for, girl?"

That Cara could not tolerate. "No one refers to me as a girl," she said in quiet outrage, her eyes flashing, but the spark quickly extinguished at the stinging slap to her face. Harder than the last two. "I cannot allow you to speak to me like that," she tried again, her voice less certain, less edgy, less outraged. Even so, the comment earned her a backhand fierce enough to split her lip.

Kahlan released her and stepped back two paces. "Come here."

Hand going to her lip, the trace of blood tainting her finger, Cara straightened up, ran her tongue along the split, and swallowed, comforted by the familiar. Arousal tugged at every corner of her mind, and with half-lidded eyes, she took the two steps forward. Kahlan backhanded her again.

"When I give you an order, _girl_ , see that you don't hesitate in obeying."

Her face throbbed like she'd been beaten with an Agiel, and she gave a quick nod in response to the Confessor's directive. As a hand raised to slap her again, she poured out a vocal answer, knowing what was expected of her before this had even begun. "Yes, Confessor."

Kahlan smiled, stopped her hand mid-strike and instead caressed the Mord-Sith's face. "Are you going to behave? At least for a little while?" she asked, the note of condescension clear in her voice.

Cara used that ironclad willpower not to lean into the gentle touch. "Yes, Confessor," she answered promptly, a flood of heat settling between her legs.

Kahlan reached one foot back and hooked it around Cara's chair, dragging it from the table so it was close enough to sit. She didn't sit, though, she reached for Cara's neck guard, and spun the Mord-Sith away from her to undo the buckles.

Cara stood complacently, trying not to tremble as Kahlan slowly, methodically removed every piece of leather she wore. Including her boots. She was naked, breathing hard, standing stiffly, trying not to do anything to displease the Confessor. Her Confessor. Her slave. Her face still throbbed, and something inside her ached to be called a good girl.

Now Kahlan sat, folding her hands in her lap. "Over my knee," she ordered, and smiled approvingly as the Mord-Sith bent immediately and uttered an affirmative.

"Yes, Confessor."

"Are you going to thank me properly, or are you ready to take your spanking?"

Her eyes fluttered closed. "I'll thank you properly, Confessor," she said without hesitation this time.

"Too bad I'm still going to spank you," Kahlan leaned down and whispered, letting the tips of her hair trail across the back of Cara's neck. "Then you can thank me for that, too."

Cara should have expected that. It's something she would have done in Kahlan's place. "Yes, Confessor," she murmured her acceptance.

Kahlan thrilled at the compliance and brought her hand down swiftly across the Mord-Sith's naked backside, delighting in the tiny jump from the other woman. It was barely noticeable, but it was there. Kahlan wasn't a woman who tended to miss much. Someone else might have missed it. "You haven't been spanked before," she said, spanking Cara again.

"No, Confessor," Cara gasped out, the sting of Kahlan's palm making her warm and wet and unhinged. She wanted to say more, to explain what things she had experienced, but she had not been asked to elaborate.

"Do you want to rethink your earlier statement?" Kahlan asked, landing blow after blow, watching the pale skin turn pink and feeling it heat up. "That a girl like me could never bring you pleasure?" Her hand fell harder, again and again, a steady rain of punishment that finally made the Mord-Sith squirm.

Cara was afraid that was a trick question, that any answer she gave would be unacceptable. She defaulted to what she always liked to hear. "If it pleases you, Confessor."

Kahlan spanked her harder, straying to her sensitive thighs, turning them a bright, glaring red, until she realized the Mord-Sith thought she had done something wrong. She couldn't be sure, but she thought she heard a whispered apology for answering incorrectly, and she pulled Cara's head up by a handful of hair. "What did you say, girl?"

Cara's eyes were wide, she hadn't meant to be heard. "I said I was sorry," she answered, closing her eyes. "I only want to please you."

Kahlan's sex gave a jolt, and she gripped Cara's hair tighter on reflex. "What makes you think you have displeased me?"

Cara swallowed, forcing her eyes open, looking into curious green ones. "My punishment became more severe," she whispered.

"Your punishment became more severe because I felt inclined to strike you harder," Kahlan said easily. "You do not control how hard I hit you; you are my plaything, my whore, to be punished and exploited as I see fit."

Something inside her flared to life at that answer, making her want to work harder to please the Confessor.

"Say it," Kahlan demanded, as if that should have been the next obvious course of action.

"I am not in control," Cara recited obediently, her thighs clenching as she was forced to say such things. Things she had forced others to say in the past, just because she could. "I am your plaything, your whore, to be punished and exploited as you see fit, Confessor."

"And you like it."

She choked on that, but said it. "And I like it."

"Now ask me to punish you again."

Cara's body trembled as she made herself ask for more punishment. "Punish me again, Confessor."

Kahlan forced the blonde's head up, to show her how displeased she was. "I said ask me, not command me," she hissed.

Cara's eyes widened, her heart giving a painful extra beat at her mistake, and she bowed her head as soon as she was able. "Please, punish me again, Confessor, please?"

Kahlan was in awe, though she did nothing to let that show. "I don't think a spanking is a harsh enough punishment for displeasing me so, do you?" she asked casually.

"No, Confessor," Cara said, her words catching in her throat. "I deserve much worse for displeasing you like that."

"When all I want is for you to be a good girl," Kahlan said soothingly, stroking Cara's hair through her fingers. "Is that too much to ask?"

"No, Confessor, I'm so sorry," Cara breathed, ashamed of herself for failing in such a simple task. "Please," she implored, tears stinging her eyes. "Please let me fetch you a whip."

"I don't know if I can trust you to do that."

"Please!"

"Very well. Fetch me a whip. And fetch yourself something to bite on, so you don't alert the entire temple. Unless of course you wish to be found naked, under the lash of a mere slave girl's whip."

Cara couldn't imagine anything worse at that moment than having to choose between Kahlan and her station. "I'll fetch something to bite on, if I may, Confessor," she whispered.

"You may," Kahlan said indifferently, shoving Cara from her lap. "Go."

Cara grimaced as her knees hit the stone floor, the pain fueling her aching arousal, the knowledge she would have bruises fueling it more. "Yes, Confessor," she said quickly, crawling forward toward one of the storage boxes. She found a particularly harsh whip, shivering at the thought of it slicing into her back, and began to crawl back to Kahlan.

"What are you doing?" Kahlan asked, rising to her feet, eyes blazing. "Have you no respect for the tools of my trade? Don't let that whip touch the floor."

Cara almost cried at the scolding. She did cry when a boot slid over her neck and pressed her face to the ground. No Mistress would do such a thing unless she were past disappointed and angry. "Mistress please!" she cried, before she realized what she was saying.

Kahlan gasped, a quiet, almost inaudible intake of breath, and released her weight from Cara's neck, her pulse speeding up and pounding in her ears. In addition to the title used, she could hear the tears in the Mord-Sith's voice and was stunned into silence for several long, drawn-out moments. Finally she found her voice, though it shook, to her displeasure. "Get up."

One lone tear spilled over and slid down her cheek as she got to her feet, expecting a slap, prepared for a slap, knowing she deserved a slap. A gentle hand on her face made her exhale sharply, more tears joining the first. "Please forgive me," she whispered.

"Shhh," Kahlan shushed her, a finger on her lips, leaning their foreheads together. "It's okay." She had realized that Cara's desire to please was genuine, and desperate.

"But you have gone out of your way to correct me, and still I have displeased you," Cara managed to say shakily. She tried to drop to her knees but Kahlan's arms snaked around her waist to hold her up.

"Shh, no," Kahlan said gently, holding her close. "Come here. Rest your head on my shoulder."

Cara obeyed, knowing she didn't deserve the gentle treatment but afraid to disobey, to displease the Confessor further.

"There you go," Kahlan hummed, moving one hand up to stroke Cara's hair. "Good girl."

Cara's heart jumped into her throat, choking her up again, a warmth flooding through her body at the praise. The first words of praise she'd ever received from the Confessor, and she knew in that instant that she would do anything to hear them again. Mord-Sith training be damned, she needed to hear them again. "Thank you so much, Mis-- Confessor," she exhaled slowly.

"You may call me Mistress," Kahlan permitted.

"Thank you so much, Mistress," Cara amended her expression of gratitude, pressing her cheek harder into Kahlan's shoulder. "I will do everything in my power to make you proud."

"Very good," Kahlan said, allowing the closeness for a few long moments before taking Cara by the shoulders and stepping back to arm's length. "If that is true, and you really wish to make me proud, you will go to the rack and take hold of the chains, and when I lay the lash to you, you will take it silently, biting a strip of leather, and you will not let go of the chains or lose your footing, not even once."

"Yes, Mistress," Cara said, pleased at having a chance to prove herself, despite the pain of the lash she knew would soon be overwhelming her senses. She picked up the piece of leather she had discarded in her haste to rise to her feet, placed it between her teeth, and efficiently moved to the rack, leaning against it and lifting her arms, wrapping her fingers tightly around the hanging chains.

Kahlan's sex dripped like honey, uncomfortably so, as she bent to retrieve the whip and moved behind the Mord-Sith. Cara's body was flawless. Scars marred her upper back and shoulders, giving way to smooth skin over her lower back and buttocks, one long, jagged mark on her right thigh, toward the inside. Kahlan had the urge to run her tongue over every scar. "If you take this deserved punishment as I have instructed you to, I will reward you handsomely, do you understand?"

With the leather in her mouth, Cara could only nod.

The first lash sliced across her right shoulder blade, and Cara bit down hard on the leather to hold in a moan of pleasure. She hadn't been whipped since the beginning of her Mord-Sith training, and she'd hated it then, as much as she loved it now. But her enjoyment was tampered by the knowledge that she was being whipped as a punishment, not a reward, and she vowed to take the pain to an unpleasant place as much as she could.

Each lash was a stripe of fire, and by the time Kahlan had finished, Cara was breathing as hard as she could through her nose, tears streaming down her face with the effort to take the whipping silently, but she'd done it. She hadn't let go of the chains, either, or faltered in her stance.

Kahlan dropped the whip and moved forward, running her fingertips over the raised welts, noting the light sheen of sweat over Cara's back and shoulders, and the way her body trembled. She reached up and uncurled Cara's fingers from the chains, turning the girl around to face her, kissing away her tears. "Let go of the leather," she whispered, drawing her hands down Cara's arms, over her shoulders, up her neck and into her hair.

Cara tilted her head down and let the strip fall from her mouth to the floor, marked with the indent of her teeth. The Confessor's lips felt so good, so soothing on her face, her voice so gentle... hands so soft in her hair, making her feel cared for and important, making her feel like a girl instead of a weapon.

"You were very good," Kahlan praised her, pulling Cara closer, their bodies pressed together. "My good girl... you did make me proud. Very, very proud."

Cara melted into the embrace, her tears falling harder. "Thank you, Mistress," she whispered, her voice hoarse. "I tried so hard."

"I know you did, and your Mistress has never been so pleased with another girl," Kahlan said with a smile, bringing her mouth to Cara's, tongue bathing the Mord-Sith's lips with languid strokes. "If I'm gentle with you, you won't be able to come, will you?"

Cara's face flushed with shame, her eyes lowering to the floor. "No, Mistress, I'm sorry."

"It is nothing to be ashamed of. I simply wish for you to know why I'm being rough." The hand still in Cara's hair squeezed tightly. "I do not wish for you to think you have displeased me. Do you understand?"

Cara moaned softly, her lips parting. "Yes, Mistress. Thank you."

"I want you to come like you never have," Kahlan hissed, directing Cara to the bed admist heated kisses and firm, twisting pinches to her nipples, drawing gasps and moans from the Mord-Sith. "From now on, when we're alone, you belong to me," she announced, pushing Cara forward onto her hands and knees on the bed, giving her ass a firm smack.

"Yes, please, more," Cara begged, jumping at the slap, arousal flaring as she dropped down onto her elbows, pressing her face into the blankets.

Kahlan grinned, climbing onto the bed behind her, slapping her ass again, knowing that the only reason Cara was enjoying the pain now was because she was allowed to. "Spread your legs, bitch," she commanded, thrusting a hand between them as Cara moaned again and complied, hands curling around fistfuls of blanket. "Wider," she snapped, satisfied with the way the Mord-Sith struggled to comply. She traced Cara's soaked folds with one fingertip, then wiggled it around until she found the center of the radiating heat. "Does my little bitch want me inside her?" she asked, leaning down to bite Cara's left hip.

Cara cried out the second Kahlan's finger came in contact with her wet, aching sex. "Yes, she does, please, use me, Mistress, however you like... I want to be your dirty little whore..."

"You are already my dirty little whore," Kahlan whispered, thrusting firmly into her with two fingers, raking her nails from Cara's neck to the small of her back, leaving red lines in parallel form, crossing the whip's welts. Where most would have screamed in agony, Cara arched her back into the touch and bucked her hips down on Kahlan's fingers.

The pain was so delicious, now that she was able to enjoy it, knowing she had pleased her Confessor. It rocketed through her body, starting on the flesh of her back and moving everywhere, every bone, every muscle, every nerve ending, and exploded into bright spots of pleasure.

Kahlan moved faster, her wrist cramping, adding two more fingers and feeling Cara stretch.

Cara groaned, muffling her noises into the blankets, trying to hold her hips still. It burned a little, it had been so long since she'd had anything inside her besides an Agiel, which was about half as big around as four of Kahlan's fingers. This was a different kind of burn. The burn of opening wider to accept what her Confessor wanted to give, of stretching to envelop as much as she possibly could.

"That's it," Kahlan purred. "Am I hurting you?"

"Yes," Cara panted. "Yes, it hurts, Mistress."

"Good," the Confessor murmured, kissing her way up Cara's left side to bite sharply into her shoulder. Her thrusts grew more savage the closer she felt Cara getting, and just when she thought the girl was about to come, she felt the restraint. "What's wrong?" she asked, suddenly alarmed. "Is it not enough? Not rough enough?" She didn't mean to sound angry.

"You didn't give me permission, Mistress," Cara whimpered, biting her lip to keep from letting go.

"Come," Kahlan said, shaking her head at herself for not thinking of that. "For Rahl's sake, come for me." She swiped her thumb back and forth over Cara's clit rapidly, thrusting her fingers again and again until the blonde gave a tortured wail and shuddered out a climax in her arms.

As she held the trembling woman close, stroking her hair, letting her rest, Kahlan pulled the blankets up around them. She knew that soon they would have to leave the room, attend to matters of state, and things would go back to the way they were, until she could get Cara alone again. She kissed the sweat-soaked hair beneath her chin and smiled, already knowing that they'd both be finding ways to do that as often as possible.


End file.
